Walter and the Doctor
by DreamLady65
Summary: The Fringe team encounters a man with two hearts, a time machine, and an interesting history with Walter Bishop. Soon, the Doctor and Walter are faced with a deadly enemy set on destroying their universe. Doctor Who/Fringe crossover.
1. Chapter 1: A Lot of Heart

Chapter 1

A Lot of Heart

Walter Bishop was prone to getting up in the middle of the night and wandering anywhere from the kitchen downstairs to his laboratory at Harvard. This was why, when Peter suddenly woke up at 4:07 in the morning, he didn't have to hear the soft pad of footsteps outside his door to know that Walter had just passed by.

_Oh boy_, Peter thought, _here we go again._

With a small groan, he got up out of bed and shuffled towards the door. He took his time—Walter wasn't going to get into any trouble…probably.

Peter caught up with Walter in the front hallway. He was wearing his ratty, old bathrobe and staring at the front door more intently than when he checked his records for scratches.

"Um, Walter? What's going on?"

Walter turned from the door. "Oh, hello, son! I had trouble sleeping, so I started monitoring the radiation emission spectra around the greater Boston area. At 2:25 and again at 2:27, I tracked a spike in the tau band that was almost ten times the normal levels."

"That's great, Walter, but why are you staring at the front door?"

"Oh, that's something else entirely. After studying the spike, I began nibbling on these—" Walter produced a cluster of Red Vines from the pocket of his bathrobe. "—and all of the sudden I had this great epiphany!"

_This can _not _be good. _"So…does your epiphany involve going outside?"

"I certainly hope so," Walter replied. And then he walked right into the door.

_Whump!_

"Walter!"

Peter ran over to his father, who had crumpled to the ground. He reached down to help Walter up, but he was shaken off.

"I'm fine, Peter," Walter assured his son as he got to his feet. "No harm done."

"Walter—what were you _doing?_" Peter tried to sound reprimanding, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"I was convinced that I had discovered how to successfully migrate my atoms so as to pass through solid objects—such as that door there…" Walter's face took on a disappointed expression. "It appears that I was wrong."

Peter sighed. "You can try again tomorrow, Walter." He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder and gently led him to the stairs. "Right now you need to get back in be—"

_Bzzzzzzt! _Peter's cell phone vibrated on the small table in the hallway.

_What now? _Peter grumbled to himself as he snatched up his phone. His mood brightened considerably when he checked caller ID.

"Hey, Olivia. I'm guessing this isn't a social call?" Peter could picture the FBI agent crack a smile on the other end of the line.

"Afraid not. Tell Walter to grab his kit and meet me at Boston General ER in fifteen minutes. They just brought in a man they found in the park. He flat lined as soon as he got through the doors. They've moved him down to the morgue."

"Why are they bringing us in? What's so special about this guy?"

"When the EMT got to him, they detected an irregular heart beat, so they attempted to defibrillate. That's when they found what caused the irregularity—two hearts."

"Now that's more like it."

Peter and Walter dressed quickly and took off in their car for the morgue.

"So, what bizarre and mysterious happenstance are we investigating today?" Walter asked, sounding entirely too gleeful.

"Well," Peter told him, "there's a guy in the Boston General morgue with a lot of heart!" He couldn't help but grin at his admittedly cheesy joke. Maybe Walter was starting to rub off on him.

Walter looked confused. "Was he exceptionally kind?"

"No, he literally has a lot of heart. Two, to be exact."

Walter's eyes widened. He got a look on his face that generally meant he had solved a complicated formula or remembered that there was banana pudding in the fridge. "It couldn't be…" Walter muttered to himself. "Why would he come back now?"

"Walter, are you okay?"

Walter turned to Peter, looking very excited. He grabbed a Red Vine from his pocket and took a bite out of it. "Hurry, Peter, there's no time to waste. It must be the Doctor!"

"Doctor who?"

Walter shook the Red Vine in Peter's face to emphasize his words. "Exactly, Peter! _Exactly!_"

Olivia had already made it to Boston General. She was in the morgue with a short, balding man who'd introduced himself as Dr. Winters, and was examining the body. The biological oddity himself was lying on a metal operating table, a sheet covering most of his body.

"You can see it for yourself in the x-ray," Dr. Winters said. He was standing in front of an x-ray in a viewer. At that point, he switched it on. Sure enough, there were two hearts.

"Are the two hearts the only thing that's unusual about this body?" Olivia asked.

"Actually, no," Dr. Winters answered. He couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. "Once we discovered that this man had _two hearts_—well, naturally, we ran all sorts of tests. There is a tremendous amount of redundancy built into his body, from the circulatory system to the endocrine system—"

"Built?" Olivia repeated. "Are you implying that he was designed?"

"Designed?" Dr. Winters looked shocked at the suggestion. Then again, to someone not working with the Fringe team, it probably did sound strange. "No, I don't think that's the case, but there are features I cannot explain. Like this whole system of glands and nodes, which runs throughout his body. I've never seen anything like it. It's almost like a whole different biology applies to this man, like he evolved—"

At that exact moment, Peter and Walter walked through the door. "From another place," Walter finished.

Dr. Winter's eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, that's just what I was about to say. Another place."

Olivia turned to the doctor. "Thanks for all your help, but we'll take over from here." She steered him to the door.

"But there are so many other tests…" Dr. Winters protested, sounding like a small child begging for a toy.

"We'll keep you informed," Olivia promised before shutting the door firmly in his face.

Peter walked over to the body. "He looks normal enough."

"Check out the x-ray," Olivia replied.

Peter walked over to examine the x-ray. Walter set his kit down on the metal slab and began unloading objects. Olivia joined him.

"Walter," she said, "what exactly do you mean 'another place'? He's not from the other universe, I would know."

"Indeed not, Olivia," Walter agreed. "You are quite correct; he is not from another universe. When I said another place, I meant—"

Suddenly, the apparently-not-dead body sat upright, with a gasp. Walter seemed unfazed by this turn of events. Olivia drew her gun and pointed it at the two-hearted man.

Walter placed his hands on the "body's" shoulders and calmly set him back down. "It's alright," he murmured soothingly. "You're okay."

A look of recognition came over the man as he looked up at Walter's face. "Walter?" He began feeling his face with his hands. "Did I regenerate?"

"No," Walter answered. "We arrived before they could do any damage. Although they were going to defibrillate you because of your 'irregular' heartbeat." Walter broke out in laughter. "I don't know what would have happened if they had applied the current. They probably would have gotten the shock of their lives!"

The other man began to laugh, too. "That's the Walter I know!" For the first time, he took in the whole room and saw Peter and Olivia, who was holstering her gun. "Right. As I said, Walter, I know you, but who are _you?_"

Walter nodded. "Of course, how rude of me! Allow me to introduce you to Special Agent Olivia Dunham of the FBI and—" He turned and gave his odd friend a meaningful glance. "—my son, Peter."

"Your….son?" The tone was at once confused and understanding.

Peter got the distinct impression that he was missing something. "Walter?"

"Yes, yes," Walter rejoined with a wave of his hand. "Peter, Olivia, allow me to introduce you to the Doctor."

The Doctor sat up again. "Well, now that we have the pleasantries taken care of; four things: Where are my clothes? Where's the Tardis? Where's my sonic screwdriver? And where did we get those delicious drinks we used to have—what were they called again?"

"Slushos," Walter answered. He pulled another Red Vine out of his pocket and handed it to the Doctor. "I'm afraid you'll have to make do with this, for the time being."

Olivia stared at the corpse happily munching on a piece of candy. "Walter, I need some answers here."

Walter hurriedly repacked his kit. "Yes, of course, Agent Dunham, but we should get the Doctor to my lab as soon as possible." He turned to his strange friend and, lowering his voice, said, "I think there is something you need to see."

"Well, I'd love to, Walter," the Doctor began, then looked down at the sheet covering him. "However, as I mentioned before, I've got no clothes on under this."

They quickly recovered the Doctor's clothes. Seeing the Doctor fully dressed did nothing to help Peter's and Olivia's unease. The man wore a _bowtie_.

As soon as he was finished tying his shoes, he stood up and pointed dramatically in the direction of the door. "Well then, off to the lab! (I love saying that.) Lead on, lovely Olivia!"

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Walter, are you sure it's not dangerous for him to be out of the hospital?" She glanced at Peter, but he only shrugged.

"Quite to the contrary, Agent Dunham," Walter countered. "I am afraid the danger lies in not getting him to the lab at once."

* * *

**A/N: First fanfiction ever! As you can tell, it's a crossover between Doctor Who and Fringe. Please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed, but flames will be deleted.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Doctor Explains, Sort Of

Chapter 2

The Doctor Explains…Sort Of

When Astrid Farnsworth arrived at the laboratory that morning, it was completely empty. _That's weird_, she thought as she set her purse on a tabletop. Usually, Walter and Peter were there before her. Even on the rare occasions were there was no case, Walter would drag Peter down to Harvard in the wee hours of the morning to check on Gene or Betsy or Walter's latest mad-science experiment.

But her job with the Fringe team had sort of desensitized her to "weird", so she didn't dwell on it long. Just long enough for the small, pink chemical spill on the table to sink thoroughly into her purse.

Astrid cursed and snatched it off the wooden surface. Still clutching her handbag, she ran off to find some cleaning supplies and paper towels. When she got back, however, she saw someone walking through the door, and the spill was immediately forgotten.

He was tall and, she couldn't help but notice, handsome, but…well, she'd thought only Walter wore clothes like that. And there was a certain way about him that made him seem—different.

"I love this place!" the man exclaimed loudly. He gazed at the laboratory like a kid in a toy store.

_He's got to be a scientist_, Astrid thought. _Only a scientist could like this lab. Or_, she added as she took in his bowtie, _maybe he's suffered a concussion._

Peter, Walter, and Olivia came in.

"Um, who is this?" Astrid asked, hoping one of them had an answer to give her.

Peter and Olivia looked just as confused as she did, but Walter said, "Oh, forgive me! Aspirin, this is the Doctor." He gestured to each person in turn.

"Aspirin! What a brilliant name!" He turned to Walter and murmured in a much quieter voice, "Excellent choice in companions, Walter."

"What did he just call me?"

"She's not my companion," Walter hastily corrected. "She's my assistant—"

"I'm _Agent Dunham's_ assistant," Astrid said firmly. "And my name is Astrid. Agent Astrid Farnsworth." She sent out a silent prayer that _this _one wouldn't forget.

"Astrid the Assistant." The Doctor rolled the phrase around in his mouth. "Even better!" he decided, and, to Astrid's shock, embraced her in a quick hug.

After a split-second, he released her and turned to Walter. "Now, about these spikes in the Tau spectrum…"

Astrid—who was, if anything, even _more _confused—looked to Olivia and Peter. Both gave her a look that clearly said, _Search me._

The Doctor and Walter were intently examining a piece of paper in Walter's hands. "Look here at the recording—see the spikes? One at 2:25 and the other at 2:27. One of those is clearly you and your Tardis, while the other—"

"Is a great deal of trouble," the Doctor completed.

"What kind of trouble?" Olivia asked, walking towards them. This was more her area.

"Oh, I have no idea," the Doctor replied. "Although, I'm thinking that this great deal of trouble is the same thing that pulled me through the time vortex."

Even Walter looked thrown by this last statement. "Perhaps you should explain how you got here, Doctor," Walter suggested.

"An explanation would be great right about now," Peter agreed.

"Ah, yes, of course!" The Doctor straightened up and cleared his throat. "It all began with Amy and me about to take a trip in the TARDIS to the planet Barcelona. It's brilliant there; I really should take all of you sometime. They have dogs that have no—"

"Uh, is this relevant?" Olivia interrupted. He'd lost her at TARDIS.

The Doctor considered it. "No, I suppose not. Well, we were just about to get going, when the TARDIS beat us to the punch. She took off all on her own! She's been temperamental before, but nothing like this! I tried to get control, but it did no good, and we ended up, well, here. I was about to head straight off to Barcelona, but then Amy suggested we take a look around.I took two steps out the door, and…" He paused.

"_What?_" Astrid, Peter, Olivia, and Walter demanded. All of them had become engrossed in the story.

The Doctor scratched his head. "I'm afraid I don't really remember anything after that. I must have been—what's it called when everything goes all wobbly and dark and then you have a terrible headache afterwards?"

He was met with blank stares. Even Gene's eyes looked glazed over.

"Are you saying you were knocked out?" Peter ventured, speaking slowly.

The Doctor pointed at Peter excitedly. "Yes, yes! That's the one!"

Olivia tried to tell herself that this was no weirder than any of her other Fringe cases, but then she realized that that probably wasn't true. "So, who's Amy?" she asked.

"My companion, of course!" the Doctor answered as though it was perfectly obvious. "She travels with me."

"What does she look like?"

"Redhead. Scottish. Wears very tiny skirts."

Olivia nodded. "And you have no idea where she is?"

Suddenly, the Doctor's face was deadly serious, grim as a graveyard. "No." He spoke the word as though it hurt him to say it. "No, I don't. But I will." He was determined now, and everyone else in the room could see that he was so much more than he appeared to be. And that he was not someone you wanted to cross. "I will find her."

"Listen, don't worry," Olivia assured him, her hands up in a placating gesture. He looked the farthest thing from worried, but he also looked as though he might go charging off searching for this Amy, too. And she couldn't have that, not when he might be able to help them. "I'll make a few calls. Everyone in the FBI will be searching for your Amy."

Ever since those Cortexiphan trials, Olivia had been tough, fearless, brave. And when she started working on the Fringe team…She'd seen bodies fried by radiation beyond recognition. She'd had to disable a ticking bomb _with her mind_. She'd traveled into the deep, dark corners of her subconscious more times than she could count. She'd literally battled with herself. Yet, when she looked into the Doctor's eyes, in the pit of her stomach she felt a lick of fear.

"It may not be enough," he told her.

Amy Pond had a splitting headache. That was the first thing that registered—the pain. Then, she remembered who she was. Her memories drifted into her mind, matching together like pieces of a puzzle.

She remembered the TARDIS going mad. She remembered landing and stepping outside with the Doctor. She remembered the dark figure that had been lurking, waiting. She remembered pain, even worse than it was now. She remembered falling…

It took Amy a moment to realize that her eyes were shut. She opened them. It was so dark she might as well not have. She couldn't see anything but thick, inky blackness in every direction. She was sitting in some sort of chair—tied to it, she found out when she tried to move. Tied, but not gagged.

"Well, look who's awake." It was a man's voice, she could tell that much. Was that an English accent? The headache was making it very hard to concentrate.

Amy willed her mouth to open. Her tongue felt heavy and dry, but she made herself speak. "Who are you? What's going on? Where's the Doctor?" She had tried to sound imperious and unafraid, but her voice was weak and raspy.

The man laughed. He sounded close. "So many questions!"

Amy glared steadily at the spot where the man's voice was coming from. "He'll come for me, you know," she said, putting every ounce of force she had into her words. "And you'll be sorry. He's the Doctor."

This made the man laugh harder. A small, weak light came on. Just enough for Amy to make out the man standing in front of her. He wasn't what scared her. He was unfamiliar, a stranger. But he was normal-looking, not bizarre or grotesque or horrifying.

What scared her was what was in his hand.

Amy screamed.

* * *

**DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNN! As you can see, Amy was not forgotten! And, yes, I mentioned her ridiculously tiny skirts. I had to. I think the Wardrobe Department must just use random scraps of fabric lying around or something. So, where is Amy? Who's the man? What's in his hand? And, most importantly, will anyone else make fun of the Doctor's bow tie? Read on to find out!**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3: Have You Seen This TARDIS?

Chapter 3

Runaway TARDIS

"Okay," Olivia snapped, her voice sharp and raw with nerves, "if somebody's life is in danger, then this is officially _my _problem. I'm tired of these secrets! Now, I don't care how complicated it is or how long it takes, I want to know everything right _now!_"

"Define 'everything'," the Doctor rejoined. If he had sounded the least bit sarcastic or snide, Olivia would have punched him right then and there. But he didn't. He sounded as though he genuinely wanted to help.

"For starters," Olivia began, her voice slightly—_very _slightly—calmer, "who are you _really? _Where'd you come from? Where'd that _thing _come from? How'd you get here? How do you know Walter—?"

"I can explain that one, Agent Dunham," Walter said. "You see, in Bellie and my early attempts at opening a door through universes, we accidentally created a rip in the space-time continuum, instead."

"The Time Vortex," the Doctor corrected. "And," he continued, "the hole in the Vortex attracted my TARDIS."

Walter began to laugh. "It landed right here, in this lab! Scared Bellie and me half to death!"

The Doctor broke out in laughter, too. "You should have seen your faces!"

For a moment, there was nothing but the Doctor and Walter chuckling and grinning wildly, like they were in on the greatest prank in history. After a few seconds, they started to calm down, prompted by everyone else finding the whole thing less than funny.

"Once Walter and William stopped cowering under the table—"

"I did _not _cower!" Walter protested.

"—I explained myself and informed them that they were the first humans to meddle with time. They took it quite well, actually."

"We invited him out to dinner," Walter explained.

"And then we stopped for Slushos," the Doctor said. "They asked a lot of questions, I asked a lot of questions. It was rather delightful. After that, obviously, I left in the TARDIS. I thought I'd never see either one of them again."

"What this TARDIS you keep talking about?" Olivia asked.

The Doctor's chest puffed out, and it was obvious that he took great joy in answering _that _question. "It stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She's my ship. She can take me to any place in the universe in any time period I want."

"So, you're saying there's a space ship parked somewhere in Boston?" Olivia asked incredulously.

The Doctor nodded. "When are we going to get those Slushos? I have missed those."

Peter groaned.

It took several long hours, six pots of coffee, a couple of complicated space-time diagrams scrawled up on the chalkboard, and lots and _lots _of aspirin, but eventually the Doctor answered each and every question the Fringe team asked.

With the exception of one.

"What are we going to do now?" Olivia asked, taking yet another swig of her coffee. She secretly wished it was a Scotch on the rocks.

The Doctor frowned, his eyebrows pulling together as he thought. Then, suddenly, his face cleared. "We investigate the crime scene, of course! That's what they always do in the Agatha Christie novels!" He leaned in and muttered conspiratorially, "I met her once, you know. Lovely woman."

"Of course," Peter groaned, the lack of sleep making him even more grouchy than usual. "You met Agatha Christie. Why not?"

"Now, now, Peter. Don't be rude," Walter chided. He grabbed his coat and hat off of the coat tree by the door. "We must trust in the Doctor. He is, after all, our only hope."

At those words, everyone automatically turned their heads to look at the man supposed to save them. Gene let out a forlorn _moooo_, as though she did not like this statement _at all_.

The Doctor smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'm an old hand at this." And then he was out the door.

Olivia, Walter, and Peter were in Olivia's car, and Astrid was riding with the Doctor. Olivia could have fit one more in her car, but nobody wanted to endure a forty-five minute car ride with Walter and the Doctor chattering in the backseat like a couple of thirteen-year-old girls.

But about two minutes into the trip, Astrid was wishing that she had gunned the accelerator as soon as she set foot in the car, leaving the Doctor with Olivia.

"This is brilliant!" the Doctor hollered over E.L.O.'s "Loving Thing", which he had blasting at the highest volume over the radio.

"Yes," Astrid said, using the calm, patient voice she'd perfected from dealing with Walter, "but just a little distracting."

"Speaking of distracting," said the Doctor, leaning uncomfortably close to Astrid, "how long have you been Walter's companion, Apteryx?"

"It's Astrid," Agent Farnsworth corrected automatically, but she was too worried about the direction of the conversation to care about his mistake, "and, like I told you, I am _not_ his companion."

"Well, yes, there is that," the Doctor said. "But you say potato, I say blintzes. I know a bit about loneliness, you see. I myself have been alone for, well, quite some time before, and I recognize the kind of deep loneliness that can drive a person to do some very unusual things. You aren't just with these chaps for the job now, are you? Not anymore, at least."

Astrid gripped the wheel firmly and didn't reply.

"No matter," the Doctor continued cheerfully, turning his attention to the air conditioner. "I think I might have just the thing for you at the TARDIS." Astrid winced as a blast of frigid air hit her full in the face.

...

Amy wasn't sure how long she'd been tied up in the chair. It seemed as though time had melted like ice cream in the sun, trickling achingly slow. Her back ached and her head still hurt and her wrists had nasty rope burns from struggling to break free.

She'd fallen asleep at one point and waking up to find herself _here_ had made her feel like crying. But she hadn't. Amy Pond hadn't cried since she was six years old, and she wasn't about to cry now!

_The Doctor will come_, she told herself firmly. _The Doctor always comes._

"Hello, again."

He'd come back. She couldn't see him yet, but she could hear him. Despite her efforts, she felt herself shrink away in fear.

He entered into the light, and Amy saw that he still had the small, slim object grasped in his hand. She felt a shiver run up her spine.

"Relax," the man said. His voice was somehow polite and menacing at the same time. "I won't use this on you just yet. First, I need a little information."

Amy put on her brave face. She'd have spit at the man or at least given him a good shouting, but her mouth was dry and thirsty.

"Now, be a good girl," the man scolded Amy, like a father to a young daughter. "We have just a few minutes before I must leave you, so let's get down to business, shall we?"

Amy's expression didn't waver in the slightest.

The man leaned in close to Amy, so close their noses were perhaps a centimeter apart. So close Amy had no choice but to stare deep into his eyes. Those eyes…what was it about those eyes?...Those…eyes…

When the man spoke again, his words sounded muffled and distant. "Now, let's talk…"

Amy blinked, and the man was standing several feet away. He was staring down at her smugly, a smirk on his lips.

"I must depart, Miss Pond," he said, sounding every bit as confident as he looked. "But, rest assured, I shall be seeing you again very, _very _soon."

_Did I—? _Amy thought, long after the man had left. _No, I couldn't have. No, I would never, not in a million _years_—_

She could still see those eyes. She was certain she would have to scrub her retinas to get rid of the image.

_But, if I didn't, _she wondered, fear and shame and guilt settling in her heart, _how did he know my name?_

_...  
_

The spot the ambulance had picked the Doctor up at was a ten-foot patch of grass in a small park just outside of Boston.

Somehow—nobody asked exactly how, as all of them were confused enough as it was—the Doctor recognized the exact place he'd landed and then been attacked at last night. He stood over it, reached into his pocket, remembered it wasn't there, and so put his hands on his hips and looked irritated.

"My TARDIS is not here," he pouted, stating the glaringly obvious. The grass was empty and absolutely no different than any of the other grass in the park.

"Maybe your attacker moved it?" Olivia suggested.

Something about that statement troubled the Doctor, but he nodded. "Yes, yes. He must have…"

"Well, what do we do now?" Peter asked. "That was our only lead."

"Don't despair, my good friend," Walter declared, throwing an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. To everyone's surprise, he was smiling. "I have a plan!" He turned to Astrid. "My dear, we are going to need to pick up a few Big Macs on the way back to the lab."

"Walter, are you getting the Big Macs for the plan or because you have a craving?" Peter asked.

"Both," Walter replied with a grin.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay! I don't really have any good excuse...I don't like this chapter as much as the other two, but it's up, at least. Please review to let me know what you think! Reviews make me happy. And a big thank you to those that have already reviewed! *virtual hug***

**In case it isn't obvious, I don't own Fringe and/or Doctor Who (I wish...)  
**


	4. Chapter 4: Tracking the Rat

**Slightly angsty Peter/Olivia ahead. Can't say I didn't warn you.**

* * *

Chapter 4

Tracking the Rat

"Okay, Walter," Peter said once they were back in the lab, "what's this plan of yours?"

Walter grinned. He'd been waiting for someone to ask him that during the whole car trip. He held his hand out, and Astrid passed him the McDonald's bag with six Big Macs inside that they'd picked up on the way back.

"You see, son—" He opened the bag and fished out a Big Mac. "—the Doctor's TARDIS emanates a strong theta band field, which, as everyone knows, is also the strongest sense of the common street rat." He unwrapped the Big Mac. "So, all we have to do is have the rats ingest some protein—these hamburgers—with the good Doctor's blood mixed in, and they should track the theta bands down to the source—" He took a huge bite. "—whith, un thith cawse, ith tha TAWRDITH," Walter finished, his words thick and slurred from the chewed beef, lettuce, tomato, and bun in his mouth.

From her stable in the lab, Gene let out a _moooo_.

Walter's eyes widened. He quickly lowered the burger. "Terribly sorry!" he apologized to the cow. He turned back to the others. "Doctor, Astrid, perhaps we should go and prepare the samples away from _certain eyes_." In case they had somehow missed his rather blatant hint, he jerked his head in Gene's direction.

"Don't eat any more burgers, Walter!" Peter called out to the figures retreating through the door. "We need those for the samples!"

The door shut behind Astrid, leaving Peter and Olivia alone in the lab.

An uncomfortable silence crept up on them. Without warning, Olivia's declaration of love and her kiss with Peter played in her head in full color and surround sound. She winced inwardly. When she'd finally come back from the other universe, she hadn't really known what to expect from Peter, but she hadn't thought that he wouldn't say _anything _about it. Not. One. Thing. It was as though the whole thing had never happened.

At first, she'd thought maybe he was just adjusting, maybe he was just waiting for the right time. But the days stretched into weeks, and she realized he wasn't going to talk to her about it—not even to say that he didn't want to talk to her about it. If he'd done that, at least she would know how he felt. Now…she wondered if the reason he wasn't speaking to her about it was because he simply didn't care.

And that hurt worse than every gun shot wound, broken bone, or stabbing she'd gotten ever could have.

"So, um, what do you make of all this?" Olivia asked. It was lame, she knew, but she needed to fill the silence. She had to escape her thoughts.

Peter shrugged. "I really don't know what to think."

Olivia was determined to stumble on. "At least Walter has a new best friend."

Peter's lips pulled up in a small smile that sent Olivia's heart into overdrive. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing."

Olivia willed herself to smile back. "You never know with Walter."

Peter sighed wearily and nodded. Olivia knew that he was thinking of his father. Peter still worked and lived with him, but now it was mostly because he was the only one who could keep Walter under control. Things were tense between them. Olivia wondered if Peter would ever _really _forgive Walter for what he'd done.

"Your hair's turning blonde again," Peter commented suddenly.

Olivia nodded. Over the weeks, her roots had turned back to their original color. "Yeah, I'm glad. I don't like having red hair," she said simply. She didn't mention _why _she didn't like red—because it was the same hair color as the stranger with her face that resided in the other universe.

"Peter!" Walter's muffled shout rang throughout the lab. "I need my scalpel!"

"I'm coming!" Peter walked over to the nearest table and picked up the small knife laying on it. He took a step for the door—

And felt a hand on his shoulder. "Peter, wait," Olivia said.

_What are you doing? _Olivia screamed at herself. _Don't do this! Don't do it!_

Peter turned back to her, surprised and expectant. "Yeah?"

_No! _

Against her will, Olivia's mouth opened, and she blurted out, "Why did we never talk about that night in the other universe?"

She mentally steeled herself for his answer. It couldn't be a good one, she knew that much. If he cared about her that way, she would never have had to ask.

Peter's face softened, but it didn't look like pity. It looked like…tenderness, almost. Olivia felt little butterflies in her stomach. He leaned in close, very close, his face tipped towards hers. He placed both of his strong hands on her shoulders.

"Olivia—"

"Peter!" Walter's voice wasn't muffled anymore. Peter and Olivia both looked away to see Walter's head poking out of the door. "Do you have my scalpel, son?"

Reluctantly (Or was she just imagining it?), Peter pulled away and walked over to give Walter the scalpel.

It took Olivia a moment to realize she'd been holding her breath. She let it out in a gust.

...

"It's time for us to depart, Amy, my dear," the man said, stepping into the light.

"Depart?" Amy echoed, her throat hurting as she spoke. The man had still neglected to give her any food or water, and her stomach throbbed in unison with her esophagus. "What does that mean? Depart where? Where am I going?"

"All in good time, Miss Pond," the man replied. He withdrew the dreaded object from his pocket. "I am going to untie you from that chair, so we can be on our way. You may try to fight me, if you wish, but I wouldn't recommend it." He held the object up in front of him. "It would not end well for you."

It wouldn't have mattered, really. As much as she despised this man, as much as she wanted to get back to the Doctor, she was simply too weak and tired to put up much of a fight. She felt as though the impenetrable darkness around her was slowly draining the life out of her.

The man knelt down and released her from her bonds. Amy didn't struggle. He pulled her up to stand, and Amy swayed a bit on her legs. How long had she been sitting in that chair? It felt like forever.

The man had stopped for a moment, searching for something in the black that surrounded them. Could she make a break for it now? No. He was much too close, she was much too weak, and the item was still clutched firmly in his hand. She'd have to wait.

But what if the opportunity never came? This man was smart, smarter than her. He could probably anticipate any escape attempts she tried to make.

"Ah! Here we are!" the man cried out in triumph. He must have flicked a switch—most of his arm was lost in the dark—because suddenly the room was flooded in light.

Amy gasped. Her eyes grew impossibly wide, and her knees felt as though they were made of jelly. The man smiled smugly at her reaction.

Amy and the man were standing in the TARDIS.

...

Walter looked down at the rat in his hands. An oversized collar ran around its neck, making it look like a very odd domestic pet. "I have attached the GPS tracker and the theta band scanner," he announced to the others.

Peter looked over his shoulder. "What is that black box under the collar?"

Walter turned to his son with a rather smug look on his face. "That, Peter, will inject the rat periodically with a small amount of LSD every few minutes."

"Why are you injecting the rat with LSD?"

Walter looked puzzled. "Why not?" he replied.

Peter reached forward and snapped the small box off the collar. He tossed it onto a bench and placed the rat in its cage.

"Let's go," Peter said, carrying the rat and its cage out the door. Olivia, Astrid, and the Doctor followed. Once they were gone, Walter reached down, pocketed the black box from the bench, and hurried after them.

They drove to the park where the TARDIS had landed. Walter had supposed that that was the best place to start.

As they made their way to the TARDIS's landing site, they got more than a few funny looks. But what could those people do? They weren't harming anybody, they weren't stalking anybody. They were just five grown men and women, taking their pet rat out for a stroll…in a cage.

Things got worse when they found that their patch of grass was currently the site of a young couple's romantic picnic.

"I'll handle this," Walter told the others. He took a confident step forward, but Peter yanked him back by his collar.

"Oh no, you don't," the younger Bishop growled.

"_I'll _handle this," Olivia said. She reached into her jacket pocket—then, not finding what she wanted, began to pat down her other pockets, becoming more and more frantic. Finally, she gave up. Cursing quietly, she turned to the others. "I left my badge back at the lab," she muttered sourly.

"Not a problem, Agent Dunham," the Doctor replied, and walked up to the young couple.

The Doctor taking care of it seemed almost as bad as Walter taking care of it, but neither Astrid, Peter, nor Olivia got the chance to stop him. He strolled over to the couple, smiled pleasantly at them, said a few words that the others were too far away to hear, and then pulled out something that looked like a wallet, holding it out for the couple to look at. To Olivia, Peter, and Astrid's surprise, the couple obligingly packed up their things and left, though Olivia noticed, as they passed, that they looked confused and were muttering quietly to one another.

"_He's _with the Secret Service?"

"Maybe he's going plainclothes…"

The Doctor walked back towards the Fringe team. "There you are. Problem solved." He glanced down at the "wallet" in his hand. "Good thing he didn't think to take my psychic paper!" he added, more to himself than anybody else.

Everyone was wondering, but no one dared ask.

"Okay, let's get this party started," Peter murmured sardonically, setting the cage on the ground. With the flick of his wrist, he released the latch and the rat was set free. It paused a moment to take in its surroundings, then scurried off, (hopefully) following the trace of the TARDIS.

Peter, Olivia, Astrid, the Doctor, and Walter took off, too—running back to their cars to track a rat.

Olivia's car had the GPS tracker inside (the Doctor and Astrid would follow them). While Olivia drove, Peter looked intently for the telltale blip of the rat.

"It looks like he's heading for the river," Peter said as they came out of the parking lot.

Olivia drove like she was in a car chase. All her turns were hairpin, and her foot never eased up on the accelerator. Peter thought it was kind of unnecessary, since there was no way a rat could outrun an SUV.

"There!" Peter cried out. His finger flung itself at the screen as a force of habit. "I think the rat's stopped—just across the road."

Olivia slammed on the brakes and was out of the car with her weapon drawn before Peter had gotten his seatbelt off. Astrid's car pulled up right behind him, and the Doctor and Astrid joined them.

Olivia headed the group, advancing slowly through the dense wood on the side of the road. She kept her gun at the ready.

_CRUNCH!_

In the blink of an eye, Olivia had turned and cocked her gun in the direction of the noise—straight at Walter, who had a bag of chips in his hand. Walter looked rather frightened at the sight of a gun in his face, nearly dropping his chips. Olivia sighed, and quickly lowered her weapon.

Astrid, who had been an inch away from a heart attack, snatched the chips out of Walter's hand. "No more chips," she told him firmly.

"You would deny me chips, Asterisk?" Walter's eyes went wide and pleading.

Astrid tried to be tough, something she had never been very good at. "Not forever," she clarified, hoping she didn't seem too soft on him. "As soon as we're finished here, I'll give you back your chips."

They continued their search. The Doctor fell in step with Astrid, gazing at her intently. For a second, Astrid was afraid that it would be the car all over again—that he would somehow see inside her soul and reveal all her embarrassing thoughts and hopes and dreams in front of everyone else.

He leaned in to her slightly and asked, "May _I _have some chips?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before they were followed by: "_NO_."

Up ahead, Olivia pulled aside a branch, revealing a blue wooden box, about ten feet tall with "POLICE" on the front in big, important letters. It had to be the space ship—their rat was scratching at the door, desperate to get in.

Peter, who was right behind her, gathered up the rat and put it back in its cage.

"What _is _that thing?" Olivia asked. It reminded her of a telephone box, but not quite.

"That, Agent Dunham, is the TARDIS!" the Doctor retorted proudly. He pulled open the door and walked inside, acting as though he was coming home after a long, _long _trip abroad—only without all the suitcases to unpack.

Peter, Olivia, Astrid, and Walter all had the same reaction once they were inside. "It's so much bigger…"

"Yes, yes, so I've been told," the Doctor rejoined. He was too excited about being reunited with his TARDIS to be too smug over the old words. He plucked a small, cylindrical object off of the control panel.

"What is that?" Peter asked, while Olivia, Walter, and Astrid ogled at the TARDIS in amazement.

The Doctor held the object up for them to see. "This is my sonic…" His elated voice trailed off. He stared at the object grasped in his hand, pulling it closer to examine it better. "No, NO! This is _NOT _my sonic screwdriver!" He threw the screwdriver lookalike down in disgust. He looked wildly around the TARDIS. "In fact, this is not my TARDIS! I don't say this very often—hardly ever—but _what is going on here?_"

Walter stepped forward and placed a compassionate hand on his old friend's shoulder. "I was afraid of this, Doctor." The serious and sad tone was unusual for Walter, which only made it more poignant.

The Doctor turned and stared at Walter with a questioning look in his face. He did not like being kept in the dark. "Walter?"

Walter took on the expression of someone about to deliver terrible news. "All those years ago, you spoke once about traveling through universes. Then, they were fixed and solid. Traveling across them was difficult. But now—" He paused to draw in a shaky breath. "—now the barriers between two of the universes have become strained, thin, cracked…"

The Doctor's eyes widened, but Walter continued. "That is why there were two spikes in the Tau spectra. There was not one TARDIS that landed, but two. One from this universe—and one from the other universe."

"Two TARDISes," the Doctor murmured, his face set and dour.

"And two Doctors," Walter completed.

* * *

**Bet you weren't expecting that! (Or maybe you were...)**

**I would really like to know how I did with Peter and Olivia's "moment". This isn't just my first time writing fanfiction; it's my first attempt at writing angst, too. So, if you do review (and please please PLEASE review: it means a lot to me and it doesn't take much time or effort), be sure to mention what you thought of it. Again, constructive criticism is good; flames will be deleted. A big thank you to all who have reviewed/favorited/supported me and my story so far! You're all great!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5: This Way Calls

**Due to a space limit for the chapter titles, I was forced to mangle the name of this chapter. Look below for the RIGHT name.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Something Wicked This Way Calls

"Hmmm," Walter mumbled, "this is interesting…"

He was examining the faux sonic screwdriver meticulously with every piece of science equipment in his lab. True to her word, Astrid had returned the chips, and he was munching on them noisily.

The Doctor sat near him. He was fascinated with Walter's tests and readings, but Olivia wondered if maybe he was using it to mask worry. She could hardly blame him for being anxious about an encounter with himself. Hers had ended up as a full-out brawl.

"Yes, that _is_," the Doctor agreed as he looked over Walter's shoulder at the equipment on the lab bench. He leaned closer and reached out a finger to the device that had them so enwrapped, "You aren't my sonic screwdriver at all, are you?"

_Did he just talk to an inanimate object? _Peter thought. He decided to ask, "What's so interesting?" instead, considering he'd probably like the answer better.

"This sonic screwdriver replica isn't just a replica," Walter explained, cradling it in both his hands in wonder. "It's an actual working machine! Very advanced, too—all its readings are off the charts. This little piece of metal is more sophisticated technology than we could ever dream of achieving!" Walter had a glint in his eye that Peter had long ago dubbed The Mad Scientist Look.

"Oh, don't underestimate yourselves," the Doctor said. "In fifty years, you'll have hovercrafts, "

"That sounds like fun!" Walter remarked, clapping his hands together in delight.

Peter raised an eyebrow, but, for once, chose to say nothing.

"What does it do?" Olivia asked.

"Well, _my _sonic screwdriver unlocks and locks doors, scrambles machines, sends signals, that kind of thing…but _this_—" The Doctor shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He took the screwdriver from Walter's hands and took aim at the front door.

_CRASH!_

Everyone dove for the ground as the door violently exploded in a barrage of wood and glass. Astrid felt a sharp stinging on her cheek and knew a sliver of something had hit her. She quickly ducked her head, pressing herself closer to the cool cement floor. Walter and the Doctor had both scrambled under the table, so they managed to come out unscathed. Automatically, Peter had grabbed Olivia and pushed her down to the ground, throwing himself on top of her as a shield. He felt glass rain down on his coat, tinkling like tiny bells.

Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Astrid lifted her head, then shakily got to her feet, a chunk of wood falling off her back. Walter and the Doctor were next, peering cautiously over the top of the table. Astrid walked over to them—careful of the bits of glass and wood—to make sure neither of them was hurt.

Olivia had been the first to realize that the commotion was over, but one simple fact had canceled it out, had driven everything from her mind.

Peter was on top of her.

Those six words were enough to send her heart thumping, but there was more to it than that. She knew from her training that Peter hadn't just landed there by accident. He was shielding her. He was protecting her.

And Peter wouldn't do that for just anybody.

_No_, she told herself. _Get a grip on yourself, Dunham. You're just a good friend to him. That's all you are. He's all but told you that. It'll only hurt you more if you let yourself get carried away. _She breathed in deeply through her nose to calm herself.

"Peter," she whispered.

Peter started, realizing the position they were in. He hurriedly got to his feet and held out his hand to help Olivia up. Olivia grabbed it, praying that she wasn't blushing, and got to her feet.

"Sorry about that," the Doctor muttered, brushing himself off. "I'll get you a new door."

"That's okay," Peter retorted sarcastically. "We have door insurance."

"Really? Well, still…" He reverted his attention back to the object in his hand, slowly turning it around in his fingers. "No, you _aren't_ a nice one," the Doctor said quietly to the screwdriver.

"Does that mean our Doctor from the other universe is 'not nice', too?" Astrid asked. She was fixing Walter's bow tie, which had become askew in all the excitement.

"Yes, I think so," the Doctor answered. "This is definitely Time Lord technology," he continued, "but slightly different. This is _not _a sonic screwdriver."

"Does it just blow things up?" Peter asked. "Or does it have other settings?"

The Doctor looked. "It has three. And I'm guessing that none of them are good."

Walter opened his mouth, but Peter cut him off. "We are _not _going to test out the settings!"

Walter looked disappointed. He stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth and chewed noisily.

"Okay, so this other Doctor is probably the one behind everything," Olivia said. "He must have taken the TARDIS, your sonic screwdriver, Amy…"

"Yes," the Doctor replied, "but what we _really _need to know is where he is! Once we've found him, then we can trap him." The Doctor began to pace, glass crunching under his feet.

"But he has the TARDIS, right?" Peter said. "So he could be anywhere…and any_when_."

The Doctor shook his head, still pacing. "No, no. Theoretically, this other me could drive my TARDIS—just as I could operate his. But my poor TARDIS sustained some damage on being yanked through the time vortex. It can be repaired, of course, but it would take a couple of days to recharge herself." He paused to grab a chip from Walter's bag. "So, he's nearby…therefore so is the TARDIS…and Amy…" Astrid noticed that his face softened ever so slightly at the name, before returning to its previous pensive expression. "He'd need somewhere big…big and hidden…with spare parts and tools lying around to make his repairs…"

"Like an abandoned chop shop?" Olivia suggested.

The Doctor turned to her. "Why, certainly!...Um, what is a chop shop?"

"I could eat some pork chops," Walter muttered. He grabbed Astrid's arm. "Do you have any pork chops, my dear?"

"No, Walter, sorry."

Olivia was already on the phone. "This is Special Agent Dunham. I need a list of every known abandoned chop shop within five miles of Nedlee Park—"

Static erupted on the other line. Before Olivia could even consider redialing, the static was gone, replaced by a voice.

"Hello, Olivia—great name, that!" The voice was smooth—like velvet—and courteous, with a distinct English accent. Yet, in the deepest undertones, there was a hint of malevolence. "I have just spent the last few hours monitoring every phone line on the planet, well, at least Boston," There was something about the phrasing that sounded awfully familiar, "and I finally got you. Now I need you to do me just one little favor. You see it's very important that I speak to the doctor."

Even without all her FBI experience and training, Olivia knew what this was. This was the ransom. This other Doctor had Amy, the TARDIS, and the sonic screwdriver. He was looking to make some sort of trade here. And it was very, _very _important that the Doctor be on the other end of that line.

"Doctor," Olivia said, lowering the phone from her ear and giving him a knowing look. "It's him."

The Doctor sensed the tension in her voice. He took the phone from her wordlessly.  
"Hello, Doctor here—last of the Time Lords, protector of planet Earth, the Oncoming Storm, etc. etc. Who are _you?_ I don't think you realize who you are dealing with."

Laughter came from the other end of the line. "Actually, I know exactly who I am dealing with, and, more to the point, so do you. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"Well, yeah, I realized that ages ago. What I'm _really _keen to know is: why'd you call me? Not to gloat, certainly. What do you want?"

The other Doctor was much more serious now. "Now we are getting down to business. I want my plasma screwdriver. I know you have it. So I suggest a trade. I will give you your precious Amy Pond in return, and even throw in your own screwdriver. Lot of good it did me…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _unlocks doors_. I mean admit it, that's pretty pathetic."

"Don't diss the sonic!"

"I know you're already planning some sort of clever trap to snare me. But what you don't seem to realize is that there is no trap _you_ can think of that _I_ can't think of a way to escape from. And although we do share some rather remarkable skills in that area, there is one distinct difference. While I happen to know you abhor weapons of any sort, they have become something of my stock in trade, and I assure you, if you try anything—_anything at all_—I _will_ kill your companion. I'm willing to sacrifice my screwdriver. Can you say the same for Miss Amelia Pond?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't need to. "What about my TARDIS?"

"Oh, you know very well that I'll be taking it! You saw the condition of mine—there is no hope of flying it for more than a couple of trips. Apparently universe-hopping does that to TARDISes. Then again, it wasn't exactly in peak condition to begin with…

"So, here is how things are going to go. We will meet tomorrow at precisely 11:56 P.M. If you fail to arrive, I kill Miss Pond and go on my merry way, without my plasma screwdriver. If you do show up, you will toss me my screwdriver. I, in turn, will toss you yours. Once I am inside the TARDIS and have started it up, I will hand over Amy Pond. Then, I will leave."

"And what are you going to do after that?"

More laughter. "And why would you need to know that?"

"How do I know you have Amy Pond? For all I know, she could be wandering around Boston somewhere."

"Can you afford to take that chance?" A sigh crackled through the speakers. "Oh, alright…"

There was a brief moment of silence, then a sweetly familiar voice—

"Doctor—"

And, just like that, it was gone.

"There you go. Amy Pond is right beside me, alive and well."

It was Amy's voice, no doubt about it. Of course, it could have easily been a recording or some other ploy, but the other Doctor was right—he couldn't afford to take that chance.

The Doctor knew why he had let him hear Amy. Her voice had made everything even more real—made the pain even worse. It was mind games. The Doctor ought to know. He was something of an expert on them.

"It really has been nice speaking with you again."

"Again?" the Doctor repeated, unable to keep surprise from his voice.

"Goodbye. I hope to be seeing you again very, _very _soon."

The line went dead.

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**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because it was kind of hard work! The first time around, both the Doctors sounded pretty OOC (hope they don't still) during the phone call scene. So, after a whole lot of editing, I give you the finished, and hopefully better, product. Please review it and let me know what you think! I LOVE reviews! Thanks for reading!**


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